


Blue Lips, Blue Veins

by YukiPage27



Category: Detroit: Become Human (Video Game)
Genre: Blood and Gore, Injury, Mentions of alcoholism, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Other, Phobias, light fluff
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-07-09
Updated: 2018-08-01
Packaged: 2019-06-07 14:31:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 5
Words: 10,427
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15221246
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/YukiPage27/pseuds/YukiPage27
Summary: When the android sent from CyberLife arrives at the police station, you are instantly curious about him. In your endeavor to learn about him, he comes dangerously close to discovering secrets from your past.





	1. Curiosity and Distress

**Author's Note:**

> I have a couple of ideas for continuing this, but only if people like it enough. This was me taking a simple idea and running with it. I do share the Reader's fear, but not quite to the extent that is expressed here. Anyway, enjoy! :)

Hank’s new partner peaked your curiosity. After all, it wasn’t every day that an android was allowed to participate in solving critical investigations. Your daily paperwork had been interrupted this morning when Connor arrived, asking around for Lieutenant Anderson. Awkwardly, you had introduced yourself and directed him to Hank’s desk, which was situated directly across from yours. The android sent by CyberLife then proceeded to ignore you as he sat in an available chair, absentmindedly tossing a coin around. The tricks he did boggled your mind and proved to be more than enough of a distraction for you. Then, Hank had arrived and all hell broke loose. You felt sorry for both parties as Hank berated the android he was forced to work with. When they finally left, you returned to writing up the reports assigned to you. Despite their absence, the two of them were stuck in your head for the rest of the day.

Now that it’s later, more and more people are packing up and going home. You volunteered to put in the extra hours needed to add the finishing touches on your paperwork. It’s mind-numbingly tedious. However, you are instantly glad that you stayed when Connor walks into the station. He nods politely at you before sitting down in his designated chair and closing his eyes. You squint at him. Did he fall asleep? Can androids even sleep? You sigh and begin to spin around in your wheely chair, musing over some of the thoughts that have been plaguing your mind since the deviant cases started racking up. Androids are treated terribly by most of your society. It sucks; even if they don’t feel anything, they still should be treated with decency. And, despite what you’ve been told all your life, the cases suggest that androids do have emotions, that they are sentient and feel empathy. You don’t know what to make of it.

Breaking from your reverie, you look at Connor again. He _still_ hasn't moved. What is going on? Hesitantly, you stand up and walk over to him. He remains perfectly motionless. You edge your way in front of him and wave your hand in front of his face. “Er, Connor? You there?” you ask. No dice. Scooting backwards, you hoist yourself on top of his desk and stare at him, legs dangling over the side and arms crossed. You have to admit, his is pretty cute. You wince and mentally chide yourself. Don’t end up liking a guy who might not even be capable of reciprocating your feelings. Still, you guess it can’t hurt to look. You lean forward until your face is nearly a foot away from his.

Connor’s eyes pop open. Yelping, you flinch backwards and fall off of Connor’s desk. You hit the floor with a thud. He gazes down at you and blinks in surprise. “Officer, what are you doing on the floor?”

You are frozen in place. “Um, well… you see…” Your face grows redder and redder with every passing moment as you scramble to come up with something to say. “You looked like you were asleep, so I was… er… _checking_ on you. When you opened your eyes, you scared me. I, uh, I fell. As you can see.”

“I was not asleep, merely making a report to CyberLife and running a self diagnostic,” he articulates with a faint hint of amusement in his voice. Standing, he reaches down and helps you off of the floor.

“Thanks,” you say sheepishly, rubbing the back of your neck.

“You’re welcome.” Connor turns on his heel and quickly walks to the exit, leaving you in the dust.

Before you can stop yourself, you run after him. “Hey, wait!” you call. “Wait up!” You skid to a halt in front of him.

He cocks his head at you. “Yes?”

“Where are you going?” you inquire hastily.

“I just received word of another incident that could possibly involve deviant activity. So, I’m going to locate Lieutenant Anderson and accompany him to the crime scene.”

“Oh! I know where his house is. And I know the bars where he likes to hang out.”

“So do I. It’s in his profile,” Connor states matter-of-factly.

“Yes, but I could drive you there. If you wanted me to, that is...” you mumble, trailing off. For a few moments, Connor’s LED whirrs yellow on the side of his head. It then changes back to blue.

“Alright,” he concedes. “Your vehicle will get us there faster than public transportation.” You cheer internally as you lead Connor to your car. You start it up, pull out of the parking lot, and head towards Hank’s house. The two of you sit in silence for a couple of uncomfortable minutes until, surprisingly, Connor speaks. “May I ask you a question, Officer?”

“Uh, sure. But you don’t have to call me that. Most people call me Blue.”

“That is an unusual nickname.”

You smile ruefully. “Well, when you get a bucket of paint dumped on you your first day on the job, you might get an ‘unusual nickname’ too. It’s a long story, don’t ask. I like it, anyways. So what’s your question?”

“Why were you so adamant about driving me to find the Lieutenant?”

“Well,” you say, sighing. “To tell you the truth, I find you extremely interesting. It’s so cool you’re an android detective, like something from a book! Chauffeuring you seemed way better than finishing my paperwork. Also, I know Hank. He needs all of the moral support he can get when you do eventually find him. He doesn’t really like androids, if you haven’t noticed.”

“He has made that very clear. Do you know why that is?”

“Yeah, but I’d rather not say. It’s not for me to tell.” You stop at a red light and wait, tapping your fingers on the steering wheel. Rain pours from the overcast sky, drumming a tattoo on the roof of your car. Turning the corner, you drive through a neighborhood. The houses are nothing fancy, a little run down if you’re being brutally honest. The trees and grass, though, are a nice break from the concrete jungle of Detroit.

Stopping in front of a house, you park the car. “This is it,” you say, gesturing to the faint glow in the windows of the dwelling. “And it looks like he’s home.” Both of you step out into the rain. You pull your hood over your head in an attempt to shield yourself from the cascading water. Needless to say, it doesn’t work very well, so you hurry to the safety and comfort of Hank’s porch. Connor raises a finger and rings the doorbell. He opens his mouth to call out, but you cut him off. “Hank! It’s me, Blue. I know you’re in there.” You hear nothing from inside the house. “Sorry,” you whisper to Connor. “I think he may be more inclined to open the door if he thinks I’m the only one here. Hank!” you once again yell, and rap your knuckles on the door loudly. A sinking feeling pulls at the pit of your stomach. You try the knob, then back away from the door. “Something’s wrong.” You step into the yard and search the ground. “He has a spare key under a rock somewhere,” you explain breathlessly.

“Here, I see it.” Connor overturns a large stone adorned with peeling green paint that was hiding in the shadows and picks up a brass key. He unlocks the door and turns the knob. The pair of you step inside the house and Connor closes the door behind you, shutting out the dreary weather. You gasp. Hank is lying, either passed out or dead, on the kitchen floor with a spilled bottle of whiskey and a gun next to him. You start forward, then something else immediately draws your attention. A giant Saint Bernard reclining in the living room lifts his head up at your entry.

You swear under your breath and slowly inch away. “Oh no, I forgot about him.” You hold your hands up disarmingly. “Easy, Sumo, easy. Just stay there,” you croon in the calmest tone you can muster. The dog lets out an booming bark and bounds towards you. Without another word, you take off down the hallway. You rush into the first door that’s open, slam it shut, and lean against it, chest heaving. You exhale loudly and rub your shaking hands through your hair. That was a tad overdramatic. Even still, you really did _not_ want to go back there. Cracking open the door, you warily peer out, but you can’t quite see the kitchen or the android. “Connor, you ok?”

“Yes, I’m fine. Lieutenant Anderson is as well, just inebriated and unconscious. The dog isn’t going to hurt anyone; you can come out now,” Connor replies.

“Uh, no thanks. I’m good in here.” The door slowly creaks shut. You can hear Connor waking up Hank and his drunken howling, eliciting a giggle from you. His swearing and slurred speech gets louder as he passes by your door. Silence, then the sound of the shower running and Hank hollering. You cover your mouth with your hands to stifle a laugh.

A couple of minutes pass, then there’s a knock at the door. Connor’s muffled voice comes through. “Blue, can I come in?” You open up and move out of the way to let him pass, making sure to secure the door afterwards. He walks over to the closet and pulls out one of Hank’s “suits.” Turning back around, he looks at you quizzically. “Why are you still in here?”

You scuff the carpet with your foot self-consciously. “It’s because… I’mafraidofdogs,” you mumble.

Connor cocks his head. “What’s that? I didn’t catch that.”

“I’m afraid of dogs, ok?” you clarify irately. “I don’t like being around them. I mean, they’re adorable in theory and from afar, but I just don’t like to get close.”

Connor nods. “Ah, I see. Well, Sumo is sitting quietly in the kitchen, so I don’t think he’ll bother you if you come out to sit in the living room. Come on.” He waves you out the door. You cautiously follow him, glancing in the bathroom to see Hank hunched over the toilet. You grimace as he vomits. Connor drops off his clothes and shuts the door to give him some privacy, at Hank’s assurance that he won’t take long.

You bravely march into the living room and curl up in the seat furthest away from Sumo. You don’t take your eyes off the dog. Connor pokes around in the kitchen for a bit, then focuses his attention on you. Once again, you can see his yellow LED spinning. He approaches you. “Being afraid of a passive animal is illogical. It may even interfere with your duties in the future. You should try to face your fear.”

You rapidly shake you head. “No way. I’m not getting near him.”

Connor grabs your hand. Your eyes widen as he pulls you off the couch. “This is for your own good.” He begins to lead you to the source of your fear.

“No no no no no,” you frantically cry. “Connor, let go!” You try to break free from his grasp, but he has a solid hold on you. When you realize that resistance is futile, you resign yourself to your fate and allow Connor to lug you into the kitchen. The pair of you halt in front of the furry creature. Your muscles become rigid, and you instinctively clutch Connor’s arm. Sumo raises his head. He whines softly, tail thumping and tongue hanging out of his mouth. With you still clinging to him, Connor kneels on the tile. Gently, he detaches one of your trembling hands from his arm and places it on Sumo’s back, his hand covering yours. You feel the dog’s silky fur underneath your fingers and steadily, you begin to stroke him. Some of the tension leaves your body.

Connor notices your heart rate decreasing and pulls back. “See? This isn’t so bad.” You see him smiling slightly at you.

“No, no it’s not.” You grin back at him and shake your head in wonder. How could this caring person ever be called a machine? Connor may not believe it himself, but he maybe really does have feelings. And if he does, this deviant hunter specially designed by CyberLife, then all androids do. A seed of belief begins to take root in your heart.

Your thoughts are interrupted by a _slurp_ as the Saint Bernard licks your wrist. “Ewww.” you shake the slobber off of you. “Sumo, that was gross.” Connor starts to get up. You seize his hand and look him in the eyes. “Hey, thank you for this.”

“It’s no problem, Blue.”

“No really. Thank you. I would’ve never been able do this without you.” You realize how intensely you’re staring at him and look away, blushing. You release him. Man, he really is cute. This android better have feelings, you think jokingly to yourself as you continue to pet Sumo.


	2. A Late Night Discussion

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Your doorbell rings in the middle of the night, and an unexpected visitor arrives.

“Never thought I’d see the day.” You look up from your spot on the kitchen floor, where you are sitting cross-legged and petting Sumo. Hank stands in the entrance of the hallway, looking worse for wear. “When you first saw Sumo, you refused to even go near him. What the heck happened?” Hank grumbles irritably, but he can’t keep a smile off of his face.

“I guess I just had to face my fear. This guy helped a bit.” You gesture to Connor.

“A bit?” Connor teases.

“Fine, fine. Maybe more than a bit.” You give Sumo one final pat and stand up, looking at Hank with concern. “Anyway, how are you? You ok?”

“Yeah, I’m alright.” Hank waves away your question nonchalantly.

“But the gun?”

“That’s nothing. Look, stop worrying about me so much.” Connor purses his lips disapprovingly, but says nothing. “Why are you here with the android, anyway?” Hank asks.

Conscious of Hank’s deliberate subject change, you resolve to press him on the subject later. “Well, I had to check on you somehow; you didn’t even say hi to me this morning, then you were gone all day,” you say playfully. “Plus, Connor needed a ride. My car’s parked out front.”

“She offered her help. Lieutenant, we should head to the crime scene now.” Connor seems eager to leave.

Hank gives him a sour look. “Be a good boy, Sumo. I’ll be back,” he says affectionately to his dog. The three of you go outside and Hank locks the door. He and Connor head to his car. “Be careful out there, Blue.”

“You too. Both of you.” You wave at them. “Call me if you need anything.” Getting into your car, you drive off. Back to paperwork land you go.

It took you three more hours to finish up, and now you feel like your mind is melting out of your ears. Typing the final keystroke, you heave a sigh of relief. You get up and stretch your whole body. The station around you is practically empty, with only a few officers on duty. You gather your things and head home, looking forward to a hot shower. You yawn as you enter your cramped, one bedroom apartment. It’s not much, but it’s all you can afford on your current salary. Man, you really miss living with your roommate in Chicago sometimes. Slipping off your shoes, you pad to the kitchen in your socks, looking for something to eat. Your fridge is barely stocked, only containing a half-empty bottle of ketchup and some moldy take-out. Looks like it’s cup ramen again tonight. After eating, you take the aforementioned shower. It helps you to unwind and clears the thoughts of work out of your head. Your mind inevitably turns back to Connor. Sure, you were joking before about how he “better have feelings,” but was there a grain of truth to it? You try to examine yourself, but all you come up with is a muddled, confused mess. Regardless of how interesting he is or how cute he is, you know that you don’t need to be in a relationship again, with an android or otherwise. Not with your black cloud plaguing you. At least now you can pet dogs.You turn off the water and slip into comfy pajamas. Literally falling into bed, you burrito yourself in as many blankets as you can get your hands on and immediately drift off to sleep.

The ring of a doorbell echoes about your apartment. With a start, you awake. You wait for a few seconds, unsure if the sound was real or just a dream. It rings again. Yep, it’s real. You glance at your phone. It’s 1:30 in the morning! Who could be needing you so early? The bell once again rings, longer and more instantly. “All right, all right! I’m coming!” you shout. Untangling yourself from the pile of blankets, you rewrap on of them around your shoulders and groggily trek to the door.

After unlocking it, you crack open the door and peek out with one eye. What you see makes you fling open the door. “Connor! What are you doing here?”

Connor rubs his hands together self-consciously in the corridor, flecks of newly fallen snow still peppering his shoulders and hair. “Would you mind if I came in?”

"Yeah. Um, I mean, no. I don’t mind.” You cringe, wanting to facepalm yourself. “You can come in.” You allow him to enter, then close and lock the door behind him. “Ah, shoes!” He’s about to step on your carpet with his wet footwear. Connor stops and looks at you, confused. You smile apologetically. “My landlord would kill me if I messed up the carpet. Here, you can take your shoes off by the door.” He complies. Standing in the middle of your living room in his socks, Connor looks uncomfortable to say the least. Plopping down on the couch, you use the blanket to cover your lap. You wrack your brain for something to say. “You could, er, sit if you wanted to,” you offer. Connor shakes his head and begins to pace. Your eyes follow him around the room. “What’s wrong?” you venture to say. 

He stops with his back facing you and crosses his arms. “I shouldn’t be here. What I should be doing is returning to the police station and waiting there for incoming reports of deviant activity. I don’t even know why I’m here. ”

“Maybe you just wanted someone to talk to. I know we just met today, but you can talk to me if you want,” you say. “It’s wild that you’re here in the first place, but I want to do anything I can to help; I do owe you one, after all.” Connor sighs and turns around. He walks over and sits next to you stiffly. Even though the couch is small, space still separates the two of you. You adjust yourself so that you’re facing him. “So what’s up? What happened at the crime scene?”

“A man was found murdered at a sex club. We ascertained that the culprit was a deviant and tracked it down. It, and another android, fought us to escape. I cornered them and held them at gunpoint, but…” Connor runs a hand through his hair. “I let them go. I couldn't shoot them. I just… couldn’t. At the beginning of my investigation, I thought I knew what I needed to do. But now, I’m not so sure anymore.”

You bite your lip nervously, unsure whether to speak your mind. “Your purpose in this investigation is to figure out what is causing deviancy in androids, right?” He nods. “What if the answer you’re looking for isn’t the one you want to hear?”

“What are you implying?”

“I mean that maybe deviants, or even all androids in general, do actually have feelings. What if that’s the truth?” Connor shakes his head. “I can’t accept that. They’re machines, designed to do a task, and nothing more.” Sighing, you shrug. You don’t have any desire to argue with him when he seems so stubborn on the subject. “Blue, can I ask you a…” Connor closes his mouth, like he thought better of what he was about to say. He starts again. “You seem close with Lieutenant Anderson. What is your relationship with him?”

“You know how you had to go find him for your investigation? Well, the DPD used to send me to do that a lot. After he got over being angry with me for dragging him away from his whiskey, we became friends. He’s probably the only real friend I’ve made since I’ve moved here.”

“You’re not from Detroit?”

“No, I was stationed in Chicago for several years. Actually, I was a Sergeant at the CPD, and a pretty good one at that. But I was demoted when I took this job about a year and a half ago; I’m basically a meter maid now. They don’t like newcomers that much,” you say glumly.

Connor tilts his head inquisitively. “Why would you do that? It doesn’t seem very rational to leave your position for a lower ranking one.”

“I… needed a change. That’s it. I shouldn’t have complained, the job’s ok. And Hank and I look out for each other, so that’s enough.” You, yawn. Of all things, you do not want want to talk about _him_ with Connor. You’re already trying to forget. “I’m really tired. I need to go back to bed.” While you’re getting up, an idea hits you. “Hold on, I’ll be right back.” You go into your room for a few minutes and return holding a pillow and a neatly folded blanket. “It’s too late to be walking outside. Or early. Whatever. You could stay on the couch, if you wanted to.”

Connor’s LED spins yellow for just moment, then he accepts your gesture. “I suppose that would be fine. My report can wait for tomorrow and I don’t think the Lieutenant will be ready to work any time soon. But I don’t need the bedding, Blue.”

“I know, it’s just for if you want to get more comfortable. Also, I brought this.” You pull out a pair of headphones and your music player from under the pillow. “I thought you might get bored, so I brought this. This morning, I heard you talking to Hank about his music. He and I share similar tastes, but this thing’s got a bunch of other genres on it too. I’ll just leave these here.” You lay the stack in the place you were sitting.

Connor seems at a loss for words. Then, he finds his tongue again. “Thank you. For everything.”

“You’re welcome. You did help me first, you know.” You walk to your bedroom and look back a final time. “And Connor? Despite what it seems, I hope you do find out the truth, whatever it may be. Night.”

“Goodnight, Blue.” You shut the door behind you and once again lay down. You’re mind buzzes. What a crazy world you live in where Connor, the android detective you were so curious about yesterday, seeks you out and stays in your apartment. What a world. It takes you considerably longer to fall asleep,with your thoughts racing, in your bed that’s missing one pillow and one blanket.


	3. Needless Endangerment

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After Connor spends the night at your apartment, you accompany him on a case in lieu of an MIA Lieutenant Anderson.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aaand there goes the G rating and the "mostly light-hearted" tag. To tell the truth, I wasn't too happy with this story. It seemed a little lackluster to me. However, I _really _like this chapter, so I hope you do too. Enjoy :)__

When your alarm buzzes you out of your fitful sleep, you feel like absolute crap. The inside of your mouth is sandpaper and your eyelids are leadlined. You drag yourself out of bed and cross the room to your personal bathroom. Flicking on the light, you turn the knob on the sink as cold as it can go and splash water into your face. It shocks your system completely awake. In the mirror, you stare at the bags under your eyes and at the droplets of freezing water rolling down your skin. Not looking too great, are we? You chuckle dryly at the self deprecation. Suddenly, you remember about the special visitor in the living room. Your eyes widen back at you in the looking glass, before you move away faster than any person should be able to this early in the morning.

At the door, you use the front of your t-shirt to wipe off your face. It’s important to look at least somewhat presentable. You gather your courage and head into the living room. The scene you’re faced with is nothing short of heartwarming. Connor reclines on the couch, cut off from the world by his closed eyes and the headphones over his ears. You can’t help but marvel at how relaxed he looks. It’s phenomenally different from the emptiness that’s so prevalent when makes one of his reports to CyberLife. Everything about him exudes a tranquility that calms your soul. Loathe to disturb him, you dart back into your room as noiselessly as you can and get ready for the day’s work.

Returning to the living room, you reluctantly realize that it’s your job to get Connor’s attention. With a strange feeling of deja vu, you place yourself in front of him. Unsure as exactly how to proceed, you settle on shaking his shoulder gently. He comes back to earth with a dazed, far away appearance. You, for first time, appreciate how stunning his eyes are, like twin pools of liquid amber. It steals your breath away. Then, he centers himself and, taking off the headphones, returns to the detached civility that you’ve grown accustomed to. “Good morning, Blue. Did you sleep well?”

You shake your head slightly to clear your wayward thoughts. “As well as I could after being woken up in the middle of the night. I’ll be better after I get some caffeine in me.” You push pause on the audio player sitting on the arm of the chair and take the ensemble from him. “How’d you like my music?”

“It was interesting. I enjoyed a good majority of the songs. Overall, I would describe it as a soothing experience.” It may be your imagination, but something a bit warmer creeps into his expression.

You smile at him brightly. “Good. I’m glad.” Glancing at your phone, you sigh. It’s time to go. “C’mon. I’ve got to be at the station in half an hour or I’ll get it. Traffic’s going to be hell if we don’t get going.” You put on your shoes and Connor does the same. The pair of you are out the door and in your car in less than five minutes.

“What about breakfast, Blue? Did you eat anything?” Connor says as you drive away from your building.

“No time for breakfast. I gotta beat the morning rush,” you respond, pressing your foot harder on the gas pedal.

You didn’t in fact beat the morning rush, but you were early enough that it didn’t take too long for you to arrive at DPD headquarters. You pull into the parking lot and stop in your usual spot. “Well, that wasn’t too painful,” you say as you get out of the vehicle. Just then, out of the corner of your eye, you see your least favorite living person. He’s getting out of his car, just a few spaces to the right of you. “Why did I open my mouth?” you groan. You grab Connor by the arm and try to yank him into the building before the guy notices you.

Unfortunately, your plan falls hilariously flat on its face. “Where do you think you’re going?” comes from behind you. You inhale deeply through your nose, then turn to face the owner of the offending voice. Detective Gavin Reed is striding towards you, a sneer on his face.”What are _you_ doing with this piece of plastic?”

“Walking,” you say flatly. Unconsciously, you pull Connor closer to you.

Gavin’s beady eyes flick back and forth between the two of you, resting on your hand on Connor’s arm. He barks out a laugh. “Geez, Blue. The android’s only been here a day and you’re already getting into it’s pants.” 

“It’s not like that!” you stutter indignantly, dropping Connor.

He shakes his head. “Wooow. You’re so desperate that it’s not even funny. It’s just sad, what you’ve had to resort to.”

Connor pipes up. “Detective Reed, I suggest that you stop harassing Blue immediately,” he says in an even toned voice.

The Detective’s smirk turns into a scowl. He gets into Connor’s face. “Or what? Newsflash, I don’t take orders from machines. Especially not from a-holes like you.” Gavin jabs a finger into Connor’s chest.

Alright, you’ve had enough. “Hey, back off,” you growl. Gavin ignores you, continuing to menace Connor. “I _said_ , back off!” You wedge yourself between the two, shoving Gavin away. He stumbles backwards. “Don’t you ever freaking touch him again,” you say through clenched teeth, shielding Connor with your body.

Gavin regains his balance and glares at you vehemently. “Why you little…” He raises his hand to strike you, but a car pulls into the lot and he pauses. Swearing, he clenches his hand into a fist and shoves it down. He stalks away from you, disappearing into the building without another word.

You let out a shuddering exhale and shake out your hands. They’re trembling, and you don’t want Connor to see. You can’t have him thinking you’re afraid of everything. He places a hand on your shoulder. “Are you alright, Blue?”

“Yeah… yeah, I’m fine. Just a little shaken up. You?”

“I’m fine. Blue,” he looks at you intensely. “I wouldn’t have let him hit you. You shouldn’t have put yourself in that situation, anyway. I’m a machine, I don’t feel pain.” “That doesn’t even matter, Connor. I couldn’t just let him do that to you. He’s a jerk, and somebody had to stand up for you.”

This doesn’t phase him. “I would ask for you to not endanger yourself for my sake in the future. I can be replaced, whereas you cannot.” Reluctantly, you follow him into the building. It’s not a surprise that Hank’s not there when you arrive at your desk. Connor sits down and you follow suit, booting up your computer to begin your day’s work. You meant to get coffee, but you didn’t think it was a good idea to leave Connor alone, considering what happened in the parking lot. Time passes uneventfully, and there’s still no sign of the Lieutenant. Connor has taken to alternating between perusing previous case files and flipping his coin around. After about two hours in, he sighs in frustration. “I can’t believe he hasn’t come in by now. All I’m doing here is wasting time.”

You look up from your work. “You don’t want to go get him again?”

“I don’t think that would be advisable. We didn’t part on the best of terms this morning.”

“What, did you guys have an argument? I mean, a proper argument, not just him shouting at you.”

“I guess you could call it that. We were talking about what happened at the Eden Club and had a disagreement. He wasn't in a good psychological state and he had been drinking. The discussion reached its climax when he put a gun to my head.”

“He what?” Eyes widening, you lean forward.

“I knew he wasn’t going to shoot me. He was just trying to get a reaction. I told him as much, and he left me alone,” Connor says.

You rub your forehead wearily. “Geez, Hank. What were you thinking?” you mutter to yourself.

Connor’s LED flashes yellow, and he blinks a few times. He stands up. “I just got a report of potential deviant activity. The location is on the other side of town. Blue, would you like to assist me in the place of Lieutenant Anderson? We can brief him on our findings when we get back.”

You’re up from your seat in a flash. “Oh, heck yeah. I don’t have patrol until tomorrow, but I can use my issued car if I need to.” You check out with your superior, who doesn’t even give you a second glance. Connor gives you precise directions and soon you arrive at your destination. Down a secluded street stands a gothic mansion, surrounded by tall iron fencing. It’s in a terrible state of disrepair, with the roof collapsing in on itself and weeds overgrowing the yard. You get the shivers looking at it. “What happened?” you say, gazing at the structure through the fence’s bars.

“This morning, a passerby reported that he supposedly heard what sounded like gunshots coming from this house.” He pushes open the gate and continues to talk as you head to the house together. “According to the witness, androids are known to disappear in this general area. The records show that it’s owned by a Zlatko Andronikov, but he hasn’t been seen around for some time. My suspicion is that this may be a hide out for run away deviants.”

You reach the pair of wooden double doors and knock. There’s no answer. “This is the Detroit police. Is there anyone there?” you call as you knock again. You turn to Connor and shrug. “I guess we can go around back. Otherwise, we can’t enter without a warrant.” You slop through the still damp mud to the other side of the house. The backyard is in the same disrepaired condition as the front.

“Look.” Connor points to the ground. In a bare space in the yard, there’s a dark pool of blood mingling with the wet earth. He kneels before the spot, places two fingers in the biofluid. Your face contorts with disgust when he brings the substance to his mouth.

“Ew, Connor. What the heck are you doing?”

He stands up and looks about. “I’m analyzing the sample to determine who it’s from. It belongs to Zlatko Andronikov. He was lying here for some time before getting up and limping there.” He points to the backdoor, swinging wide open. You draw your weapon and motion for Connor to come with you. 

You enter the dwelling, into a large, ornate sitting room. A lamp is knocked on its side, blocking the walkway. An overpowering chemical odor of something you can’t pinpoint clogs your nostrils. With your free hand, you use your shirt to cover your nose and mouth. The thumping of footsteps resounds from above you, propelling you further into the house. You side step the lamp and Connor comes right behind. He gestures silently to the tinge of blue stains the carpet near the entrance of the room . You steel yourself and round the corner, expecting the worst. You are not prepared enough, apparently, because you gasp and your stomach lurches violently at the sight before you. Mangled bodies of naked androids lie jumbled together in a heap at the foot of a staircase, thirum seeping out from the bottom of the pile. But these are not just regular androids. Gross amalgamations of parts form each figure, twisted together into something truly nightmarish. Each and every one of them have gaping holes in their bodies from which biocomponents and wires spill. Movement from the shadows on the second floor draws your attention. “What’re you doin’ on my property?” a slurred male voice calls out.

You take a calming breath through your shirt before answering in your most authoritative voice. “We’re with the Detroit police. There were reports of gunshots coming from this house. I need you to come where we can see you clearly.”

Something sails through the air from the top of the stairs and you flinch backwards, raising your firearm. It’s another torturous wreck of an android. The wind whooshes through the open cavity in its stomach before it clunks down onto its fallen brothers and sisters. A man stumbles into plain view. He looks almost as damaged as the androids. Blood clots around a head wound, obscuring half of his face and one of his legs skews at an awkward angle. In his heavily bruised and battered arms, he cradles a double barrel shotgun. An insane light shines in his eyes. Despite this, you stand your ground. “Sir, I’m going to need you to put your weapon down.”

He ignores you, staring openly at Connor. “Is that an android?” he says, fiddling with loading mechanism.

“Put the gun down, and then we can talk,” you command.

“It is a lousy android, isn’t it!” he cries, raising his shotgun and pointing it at your partner.

“Mr. Andronikov, please listen to the officer. We’re not going to hurt you,” Connor steps forward and holds out his hands.

“Stay back! Look what they did to me, look what you did to me,” he howls deliriously. “I’m your master!” He cocks his shotgun.

“Stop now!” You shout.

“And I’m gonna make you all pay for what you did!” The world seem seems to go into slow motion. Instinct guides you to do what you must.

**Choose:**

**Triangle: SHOOT.**  
**Square: SACRIFICE.**  
**Circle: PUSH.**  
**Ex: DO NOTHING.**


	4. Promises

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> You choose to sacrifice yourself for Connor's sake. He does everything in his power to save your life with mounting frustration at your reckless actions.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you guys who participated! I tabulated all of the responses from both Ao3 and [my Tumblr](https://yukipage.tumblr.com/), and this was the most popular choice. To be honest, it wasn't what I expected, but it was fun to take the story in a different direction. Thanks for reading and have a nice day :)

**Square: SACRIFICE**

What happens next is not a consequence of careful planning or logic. You don’t think, because there is no time to think; you do. In the blink of an eye, you throw yourself in front of Connor just as Zlatko pulls the trigger. Pain rips into your torso and your forearm, bringing you to your knees. For a split second, Connor just stares at you in shock. Your mouth opens in a silent wail as you feebly clutch your chest. Breaking from his stupor, Connor yanks the gun from your incapacitated grip, sending fresh waves of agony through your entire being. Without hesitation, and with deadly aim, he shoots Zlatko straight through the forehead. The shotgun slips from Zlatko’s grasp and he collapses like a felled tree in a growing puddle of his own fluids.

Meanwhile, you are in your own personal hell. Blood flows freely over your fingers, the stain in your shirt growing ever wider. Unbidden, a whimper escapes your lips. Connor’s head snaps in your direction and the gun clatters to the floor. Quickly, he kneels down next you and lays you on your back. He pulls off his necktie and ties a tourniquet around your upper arm. The android’s movements are precise and calculated; his attention doesn’t waver from his task and his hands don’t shake. As he works, he makes an emergency call. “Yes 911? An officer has been shot. I’m performing first aid now.” He gives them the address and hangs up curtly. Shrugging off his coat, he rolls up his sleeves and presses the piece of fabric into your chest wound. You writhe underneath the weight. “I need to apply pressure to your injury,” he explains quietly. “None of your major arteries are punctured, but I have to stop the bleeding.” You stare glassy-eyed at the ceiling, praying for any distraction from the suffering. You turn your gaze towards him and notice a small hole in his wrist, thirium trickling from it to his hand.

“Connor,” you gasp. Your breathing comes out short and quick, leaving you permanently winded.

“Don’t speak,” he orders. With your free hand, you grab his arm and squeeze with all your might. Connor refuses to meet your eyes, focusing determinedly on your wound. Tears roll down your cheeks as you use him to anchor you through the excruciating pain. You will yourself to pass out. Only after what seems like an eternity, with sirens growing louder in the distance, do you slip limply into the sweet release of unconsciousness.

When you return to the world, the first thing you notice is the smell. The distinct scent of sterile sheets and spotless hallways fills your nostrils. Then, you become aware of the soft, steady beeping of a heart rate monitor. Cautiously, you take inventory of your injuries. Your chest and arms ache dully, but it’s nowhere near what you felt before. You slowly open your eyes. The room you’re in is pretty stereotypical for a hospital. A whiteboard hangs on the wall directly across from you, announcing the nurse on duty in blue dry-erase marker. In the corner, a small television is mounted on the wall. You shift your hands and notice the tubes attached to you, leading to the machines on your left. To your right, sits a jacketless and tieless Connor in one of the uncomfortable hospital chairs. He stares blankly at the wall. “Hey,” you say, trying to get his attention. Connor remains motionless. “Connor, please. Talk to me.”

“Did you know that there many, many other RK800 models in storage at CyberLife?” His tone is even and measured. “If I’m ever damaged beyond repair, a fair amount of data that I’ve collected so far will be transferred into the memory of another android and my mission will continue.”

Your mouth twists into a frown. “I’m not going to apologize for what I did.”

“You could have just shot him!” Connor explodes. “None of this would have happened if you didn’t insist on blindly putting yourself in danger!” He falls silent, gripping your blanket to compose himself.

You sigh. “You’re right. I should have shot him. I wasn’t thinking.” You take a few moments to formulate what you want to say. “Look, I don’t care if you’re an android. I just didn’t want anyone… to die.” You bite your tongue to keep the word _else_ from slipping out. “In the two days that I’ve known you, I’ve come to consider you as a friend. Which, frankly, is unheard of when it comes to me. I don’t… I don’t tend to trust people that easily. Uh…” You try to recover. “I’m rambling. Anyway, the point is that I’m not going to promise to _not_ try to save you. But, what I _will_ promise is to try to think about the best option; one that doesn’t involve killing myself. Alright?” Connor terse nods in agreement. “Ok then. So,” you exhale. “What’s the damage? How long was I out for?”

“You’ve been unconscious for around twenty seven hours. They kept you under in order to remove the bullets from your body. You had two in your chest and one in you arm.” You gently feel the bandages under your shirt and on your am. “There were mild complications, but no permanent harm was done. You’re to be released within the next few days.”

“You stayed with me all this time?”

“Yes. I only managed to get ahold of Hank in the past hour. He’ll be here shortly.”

“Geez.” You finger your bandages. “I got off lucky. Or, not luck, since you basically saved my life.” You notice the tear in the cuff of Connor’s shirt and your memories flood back. “What happened?” You take his hand and turn it over. A small, ragged hole is punched through the fabric, but his wrist is unblemished underneath.

He watches you. “A stray bullet hit me. My skin repaired itself.”

With the ball of your thumb, you rub the skin exposed by the bullet hole. “You know, you really shouldn’t devalue yourself so much. Your life matters too.”

The door bursts open and you release him with a start. Hank marches into the room, out of breath. “Blue, thank God you’re ok. You are ok, right?”

You crack a smile. “Yeah, I’m fine. Just a little tore up.”

“Good, good.” He regains his breath, then pivots towards Connor. Hank grabs him and lifts him up by the collar. “Why did you let this happen you piece of crap?” He shakes the android.

“Hank! Hank, let him go; it wasn’t his fault.” You attempt to get out of bed but wince as the pain in your chest and the tubes pumping drugs into your veins hold you back. Hank sets Connor free and helps you back into a relaxed position. “Take it easy, kid. Don’t hurt yourself.”

“It wasn’t his fault,” you reiterate. “He stopped me from bleeding out. If it weren’t for him, I would be dead.”

“Ok, I believe you. It’s alright.” Hank adjusts your pillow and looks back at Connor, who’s smoothing down his rumpled shirt. “I guess I owe you an apology.”

“There’s no need, Lieutenant. I would be angry too if I were in your position.” You smirk at the irony of that statement compared to how Connor had just yelled at you.

“Well, I’m here not just for Blue. TV on,” Hank says. The screen blares to life, displaying a news station.

“We’re still unclear about what exactly what occurred during the android infiltration of Channel 16’s broadcasting station. The Detroit police are now being joined by the FBI in investigating the turn of events. No official statement has been released yet about the alarming breach of security that happened yesterday morning,” states a female reporter, with a video of a skinless android playing on loop in the background.

“Yes, I already knew,” Connor says. “But I couldn’t reach you until now and someone had to stay with Blue. We should head to the crime scene immediately.” He directs his gaze to you, almost tenderly. “Rest well, Blue.”

“Yeah. Heal up. We can’t have you down for the count like this.” Hank passes a hand over your forehead and you grin weakly at him. “I’ll keep you posted on what goes down, don’t worry.”

That is the last time you see your friends for some time. Over the next couple of days, you watch Detroit descend into a state of panic from your hospital bed. You keep your eyes glued to the TV, listening to the reports of a group of deviants freeing androids from a CyberLife store, of a peaceful protest led through the downtown shopping center. You weep at the footage of the android bodies gunned down and splayed haphazardly in the streets. True to his word, Hank updates you every now and then. “I tell you, Connor scared the crap out of me. He’s going to give me a heart attack one day. He was connected to a deviant right before it blew its freaking brains out! And the look on his face afterwards… I swear, Blue. He said that he felt it die. He said he was _scared_.”

“Holy crap,” you murmur.

“I know, right? Connor also was able to get something out of it. A word: Jericho. We don’t know what it means yet. I’ll get back to you tomorrow, after we visit some retired CyberLife guy named Kamski.”

The word runs through your head over and over again as you wait out the long hours. Eventually, you learn from Hank that it’s the name of the deviant’s secret hideout. He tells you that the police are booted from the case and the FBI took over. Connor was not happy. Coincidently, someone broke into evidence just before the android supposedly went back to CyberLife. You don’t think for one second that Connor gave up his mission.

More time passes, then it’s the night before your release day. You drum your fingers on the empty meal tray, sick of your prison and the world that surrounds you. Anger eats at you as you play back what the skeptic announcers said about the deviants. Their protests prove that they feel, that they’re really people! That they are alive! Your phone buzzes. It’s a text from Hank. It reads: ‘The Feds found Jericho, but they’re not telling us where its at. I heard that they’re sending a raid. I think Connor may have found it first, though.’ Another message: “They got an anonymous tip about its location. I think it was him.”

Your mind races. If Connor knows where Jericho is, then he must be there. What if he gets caught in the raid? You’re busy texting this sentiment to Hank, when the sound of a helicopter whirs overhead. You look out the window and see it fly by, FBI plastered on the its side in large white lettering. It’s heading, by your estimate, toward the abandoned docks a couple of miles away. Hastily, you try to call Hank, but he doesn’t answer. You ball your hand into a fist. Someone has to warn the deviants. Or at least get Connor out. Or both! You pound the tray table, then rip the tubes from your arms. The monitor flat lines as your feet hit the floor. You’re done feeling useless. You’ve got to go to Jericho to find him and warn the others, no matter what happens. Right? Looking around the room, you struggle to come up with a plan that will help you achieve your goal.

**Choose:**   
**Triangle: SNEAK THROUGH HALLWAY.**   
**Square: ESCAPE OUT WINDOW.**   
**Circle: RETURN TO BED.**


	5. Blind Trust

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> After a harrowing escape from your hospital room, you set off through the empty streets to find Connor. Many dangers lay ahead, but you're determined to complete your mission.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm going to try to pick up the pace on these chapters, since I want to finish before I'm spirited off to college in a few weeks. Hope you like this!

**Square: ESCAPE OUT WINDOW.**

A sense of urgency crashes over you, almost drowning you where you stand. You have no time to weave your way through the hospital. The quickest route outside has to be the best. You heave open the window to your second story room and a gust of frigid night air swirls around you. You’re going to freeze to death if you don’t get dressed. You fling open the small closet and see a plastic bag with your name scrawled on it, filled with your belongings. Rummaging through, you put as many clothing layers as you can over your hospital gown, completing the ensemble with your blood stained jacket. You slip your shoes on and go to the window. Spying a narrow ledge several feel bellow, you take a deep breath, then hoist yourself over the sill, landing heavily on the overhang. You grasp at the side over the building, finding purchase in a brick protruding from the wall. Your chest heaves with exertion and fear, causing dull aches to pulse through you. Dutifully ignoring this, you crouch down on wobbly legs, gripping the edge of the ledge. Well, here goes nothing.

Steadily, you attempt to lower yourself down . Your arm twinges unexpectedly, and it’s all you can do to not let go as the full weight of your body cascades on your arms. You bite back a cry of pain as you dangle, legs swinging helplessly in mid air. You hope to God no one notices you. Steeling yourself, you drop the few extra feet to the ground. Despite sinking into your landing to minimize any more bodily harm, the jolt through your body aggravates your chest wound, bringing you to your knees. Breathing, the most basic of human functions, is now like claws ripping into your torso. You don’t know if you can continue on like this.

You force yourself to remember Connor and the deviants flashes This is for them, not for you. It reignites your determination and propels you forward onto the empty streets. You set out towards the docks at a light jog. Snow floats gently around you, dusting your hair with white. The next few miles are agony, every step sending fresh waves of pain through you. You’re careful to stay away from any noise, cutting through alleyways to keep yourself hidden. However, in the distance, you can hear the pop of gunshots. Passing into one last sidestreet, you can see spotlights cutting through the darkness, illuminating a decrepit freighter docked in the harbor. The word Jericho is painted on its side. Panic shoots through and you begin to run, snow crunching under your feet.. As you approach, you can see soldiers onboard the ship, shooting any androids in their wake. Screaming and shouts ring through the air. You duck into an abandoned building before anyone can see you. Once you’re in relative safety, you bury your head in your hands. You’re too late. Everyone’s going to die now, all the deviants who just wanted to be free. And Connor… who knows where he is. By this point, he might already be dead, caught in the crossfire. Despair spreads through your system like a cancer, threatening to throttle any hope you might have left.

Suddenly, a deafening explosion rocks the world. You stick you head out the door and stare, mouth agape, at the fire spreading throughout the ship as it slowly begins to sink. Movement in the water catches your eye, tearing your attention away. Several bedraggled people haul themselves out of the water, dripping wet. They look around nervously, then begin to run down the street, away from the burning hunk of metal. Their clothing and the bright red LEDs on their forehead identify them as androids. Quickly, you go back inside the building and wait for them to pass. After the sounds of their footsteps get farther and farther away, you exit the structure and follow them as closely as you dare. The pace they set is almost too much for you to match, but you push yourself to your limit to stay on their tail. You have no idea where they’re going, but they may be your last chance of finding Connor, and you can’t lose that.

A little ways later, they turn a corner and are obstructed from your view. You make a sharp turn to keep up, but are stopped abruptly by a hand grabbing your collar. The owner of the hand slams you against the wall, pinning you there. You cry out in pain, and the edges of your vision become blurry. “What do you want?” an angry voice growls, cutting through your foggy mind.

“What?” you squeak, still trying to manage the pain.

“I said what do you want? Why are you following us?” For a moment, the world snaps into focus and you see the group of androids huddled around you. The female android who’s holding you captive is glowering at you, but you can see the fear in her eyes.

On top of the pain rocking your system, you’re struggling to breathe. “Please,” you wheeze. “My chest.”

Another female android behind her pipes up. “Andria, the human’s hurt. Look at the jacket. You got to ease up.”

“Yeah, I see the jacket,” Andria, you assume, snarls. “It’s got a DPD patch plastered on it! There’s no way we can trust anyone from the police.”

You’re starting to black out, when a male android puts a hand on Andria and utters a command. “Stop.” Unwillingly, Andria withdraws her arm and you lurch forward, sucking in air and clutching your injury. You allow yourself ten seconds of weakness, then forcibly return to an upright position. “I’m not trying to hurt you,” you say, displaying your palms. “I’m unarmed, you can check.” Andria roughly pats you down, then nods tersely.

“You still didn’t answer my question,” she grumbles.

“My friend… he’s an android. He left for Jericho a couple of hours ago. I heard about the raid and went looking to warn him, to warn all of you.. But I was too late. You were already under attack” Your voice cracks with emotion. “I _need_ to find him. I don't know if he’s dead or alive or what.”

The group looks at one another. You can see all of their LEDs spinning as they silently communicate. Andria looks extremely frustrated, and the others look fearful. Only the male android who spoke earlier seems purposeful. After a few moments, they all turn back to you. “Markus wouldn’t want us to hurt you,” he says. “But we can’t put the lives of our people in danger. You can’t know where we’re meeting.” You interject, but he holds up a hand to silence you. “However, if you permit us to blindfold you, we’ll lead you there.”

You emit a strangled cry of gratitude. “Yes, yes I’ll do it. Thank you so much.”

The male android rips a long piece of fabric from his shirt sleeve. He steps behind you and covers your eyes with it, tying it snugly around. You feel a hand grabbing yours. “You'll have to trust me. Go exactly where I go,” he says. You nod, then he pulls you and begins to run. The effect is immediately disorienting, not to mention frightening. Without sight to guide you, you stumble around, unsure of yourself. The android always keeps a firm hold on you, however, steering you one way then another. Time passes, immeasurable in the dark You’re hard pressed for a rest, when your guide halts without warning. You hear the creaking of a door, then he tugs you forward. You follow him, and your footsteps sound immediately different. Instead of the soft crunch of snow in open air, you hear the hard tap of a solid floor reverberating off the walls. He stops. “Go get him,” you hear the android say. A door once again opens, and a faint murmuring becomes apparent. Then, someone unfamiliar approaches. You hold your breath as you wait for them to speak.

“Do you need medical attention?” You instantly recognize the speaker. You’ve heard his words played over and over again in the last few days.

“Markus?” you ask hesitantly.

“Yes, that’s me.” His deep voice, although serious, contains the faintest hint of a smile.

“Oh. Um,” You struggle to form a coherent sentence. “I don’t think I need medical attention. I don’t feel great, but the hospital did patch me up.”

“Alright. Now, who is it that you’re looking for?”

You hesitate, then decide to take the risk. You’ve already come so far. “His… his name is Connor. He would have come right before the attack on Jericho. I don’t know if he approached you or not…” Your mouth snaps shut. You don’t want to put Connor in danger, if he’s undercover.

“...Connor. You said his name is Connor.”

“Yes, do you know him?” you ask earnestly, leaning forward.

“You’re with the police?” he says this question as if it were a statement. He sounds unsure.

“I am. I worked with him for a little while. He saved my life.” A note of desperation enters your tone. “ _Please._ He’s my friend. If you know where his is, let me see him.” Markus sighs. You feel a ruffling on the back of your head and the blindfold comes off. You blink your eyes rapidly to adjust them, but there’s not much to adjust to. You’re in a small, dimly lit room. Snow creeps in through a hole in the roof, falling on derelict furniture. “Follow me,” he gestures. He takes you through an open door into a cavernous chapel. Androids of all makes and models stand and sit around the pews, either in silence or susurrating. An air of mute sorrow fills the room. As he leads you down the aisle, heads turn in your direction. The hushed murmurs become more disquieted. He heads towards the pulpit at the far end of the room. Beside it, a humanoid shape moves.

“Blue?”

You gasp. “Connor!” He emerges from the shadows. You rush over and embrace him. To your surprise, he reciprocates with just as much fervency. “I was so worried. I thought you were dead,” you manage to say through your tears. You pull back and wipe your eyes. “I’m sorry. I know you didn’t want me to put myself in danger, but I had to see if you were ok.”

“I understand the feeling.” He shakes his head. “You don’t have to apologize. I’m the one who should be sorry. I keep putting you in this position.” You furrow your brow in confusion. He sees your comically perplexed expression and a small, playful smirk graces his face. “Oh, I should mention. I’m a deviant now.” Your jaw drops, eyes boggling. He chuckles quietly. “Didn’t expect that one, did you.” You continue to stare at him in stunned silence.

Behind you, Markus clears his throat. “Sorry to break up your reunion, but I need to talk to Connor.” Reluctantly, you move away. You’re still trying to wrap your mind around the new information. Connor? A _deviant_? It seems almost too good to be true. It’s everything that you wanted for him. You try to keep yourself in check, but despite your best efforts, a warm, fuzzy feeling fills you. _This could work. We could be together._ The thought passes inadvertently through your brain and it stops you in your tracks. Oh no, you’re in too deep. You swore to yourself that it wouldn’t happen again, not until you fixed everything broken inside from your past relationship. However, you can’t deny the feeling, especially when it’s so prominent. You really do like Connor, maybe even love him. That, and all the baggage that comes with it, taints your joyful mood. You sigh and rub your face. You’ll have to deal with this later, when everything blows over.

Markus interrupts your thoughts. He stands on the small stage, and starts to speak. He gives a rousing speech, full of pain and hope and clarity of mind. He speaks of justice and freedom, of peace. You’re not an android, but it inspires you nonetheless. They deviants decide that they are going to hold a demonstration in front of Detroit’s android death camp and you couldn’t be prouder. Amid the chaos afterwards, Connor approaches you. “I’m not going with them. I’m heading back to CyberLife to recruit more deviants.”

“What?! You can’t!”

“Jericho being attacked is _my fault_. I have to do everything I can to help.”

“But you’ll never make it out alive,” you insist, grasping his shoulders.

“Like I told Markus, there is a chance of success even when the probability isn’t in your favor. Everyone’s taking risks, and I have to do my part.” He pulls you into a hug. You hold onto him so tightly that it hurts, but you don't care. This may be the last time you see him alive. “Thank you,” he whispers. “For everything. You’ve done more than you could possibly know.”

You hold back a sob as he lets you go. You try to come up with the courage to say what you’re thinking, but you fall completely and utterly short. All you manage to utter is “Please come back to me. Promise me.” He nods and walks away without looking back. You find yourself a corner, and while the androids around you are rallying and gathering supplies, you weep. Through your grief, his words echo through you. _I have to do my part._ Everyone seems to know exactly what they need to do. Do you have a role to play in all this?

 **Choose:**  
**Triangle: FOLLOW CONNOR.**  
**Square: JOIN THE DEVIANT DEMONSTRATION.**  
**Circle: FIND HANK.**  
**Ex: GO HOME.**


End file.
